I, Phineas
by Anrheithwyr
Summary: It started-and ended-with a girl. But not just a girl. There was, in all, two girls, a mistake, and a death. A choice he would make that would change everything. A family he would never see again and a life he would never regret. He was a Black, and Blacks did not go down without a fight. Blacks did not give up, not ever. Even if it hurt. Phineas Black, son of Phineas Nigellus.
1. Chapter 1

_**Written for the 'Noble and Most Ancient House of Black Competition' by teddylupin-snape. My character was the disowned second son of Phineas Nigellus Black, also named Phineas(ironically, given that he was disowned...) Just so you won't get confused, I shall refer to the father as Phineas Nigellus and the son as Phineas the younger. **_

_**Sort of more of a starter chapter than anything else. **_

_**Hey, guys, not my story! Don't sue me! (I'm too young to go to jail anyway.) **_

….

(1897)

Later on, when he had been disowned, Phineas would look back and wonder if he regretted his past actions. His brother, Arcturus, would certainly wonder of it, the few times they met, in secret. But, most often, Phineas was proud of what he had decided on doing with his life and even more proud to have been disowned for it. Yes, it _did _mean he was no longer a part of the Black family, and was no longer allowed to socialize with anyone from his family. Yes, it _did _mean he was almost no better than the Muggles he defended.

But it was his dream, his goal, that the Muggles be treated just as fairly. His father disowned him for it and he lost his family over what most called a silly, impossible dream. He knew that Muggle rights was always a possibility, regardless of what anyone else said.

Often, people would ask where he got such uncharacteristic thoughts and bravery. It started, he said, because of a passion to be different. To be _unique _and no longer identified by the past actions of his family. At least, that is what he told those nosy reporters from the Daily Prophet, when they bothered asking. But it also started-and ended- with a girl.

….

Her name was Violetta. Violetta Hycroft. She was beautiful and funny and a Muggle. But that wasn't the important part, for Phineas. The important part was that he needed her, like a child needed knowledge. His heart, he thought, yearned for her. His brain, however, told him to listen to reason. She was a Muggle, for Merlin's sake! How people would talk, if they found out about Violetta and he.

How desperate he got, in the last few months of his life as a Black, for her touch, for her smell. She was beautiful and beauty drove him to do wild things. At least, that is what the world was told.

But Violetta-a normal girl, by any means-was not enough to cause Phineas to want a change. It took three things, in all. A girl, a mistake, and a death.

His his brothers tried to stop him. Tried to prevent everything that happened. However, no one could stop Phineas Black when he put his mind to something. After all, he was a Black, and he was a son of Phineas Nigellus. Who could tell him no? Who could stop him?

Who, except for his father?

….

Phineas Nigellus-Phineas' father-was the Headmaster at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, of which Phineas the younger was a student. Phineas Nigellus was a very strict, very opinionated man. Of his many opinions, some were that _raspberries did not make a good jam_, _Blacks were superior to all others_, and _if any of you end up in Hufflepuff, I'll ship you off to Azkaban. _

But the most important one-or, at least, the one that affected Phineas the younger's life the most-was that _Muggles and Muggleborns had no right being involved in the Wizarding World. _

Now, it was true that Phineas Nigellus had no idea of his second son's love of Violetta Hycroft. Phineas the younger went to great lengths to keep all of this hidden from his father, as any child will do when they have a secret. However, this did not prevent Arcturus and Cygnus-Phineas' younger brothers-from finding out. Thirteen and eight, they got into everything. It was nearly impossible to have kept them from such an important thing as a Muggle girl.

Cygnus was the one who had actually found out what had happened. He had snuck into Phineas' room and read several of the letters between the couple. Several threats of death later, Cygnus was left to himself with a great, life-changing secret and a month's worth of chocolate. Later, Phineas parted with several galleons to keep Arcturus quiet, after Cygnus had squealed.

….

"What shall we do, then, Phineas?" asked Violetta, admiring herself in the mirror. She had dark brown hair and clear blue eyes. Her skin was pale, like porcelain, and she was plump, as her father owned a very prosperous textile mill. "About your father, I mean. If he does not approve us you and I, then what can we do to stop him? Perhaps this is a the will of God."

"God?" Phineas repeated blankly, looking disgusted. "The _will of God_? Vi, I do not think that _God _cares a whit about you or I, or what my father does or does not want us to do."

"My grandfather says that God cares for the will and whims of _all _men, no matter what." Violetta's grandfather was a Protestant preacher. "He says that God is always concerned for the marriage and sanctity of future generations."

"Your grandfather also says that I would be a poor match for you, rememer, Vi?"

"I do. But, perhaps, my grandfather is not _entirely _in all matters."

"But my father is? Why is my father's disapproval any different from your family's? Or is it that you only wish to please my father because you secretly love him and not me?" He was only joking, of course, but Violetta gasped, looking scandalized.

"I would never, Phineas! Your father is married, and three times my age, nearly. I have no wish, no secret desire, to wed, or even bed, him. I have eyes for only you, my dear."

Phineas smiled down at the naïve girl. She was fourteen to his sixteen and had never experienced, what she liked to call 'first love', as least not before meeting Phineas. Yes, she was pretty, but Violetta-it was almost paining him to admit it, because it only enforced everything the Black family believed in-Violetta was not the brightest of girls. Yes, she was very pretty. If she had been of magical blood, he would have been proud to show her off to all his mates. But, beauty was not everything.

He wondered if it was even worth it, to have this silly little relationship, when he knew it wouldn't last. Violetta, of course, had no idea she was nothing more than a lustful playtoy, but he wasn't sure if this was all worth it.

If it ever would be.

….

"I saw her." said Cygnus, walking into Phineas' room. He had a big, devilish, smile on his face. For an eight year old, Cygnus could be quite sneaky and, as a Black child ought to be, according to their father, always looking out for himself.

"Saw who?" Phineas asked.

"Your _Muggle _girl. I saw her and you in the shed. Talking and _kissing_. You know Father is going to get very angry when he finds out, Phineas. When he finds out about your _Muggle _girl."

"Will you stop calling her my 'Muggle girl'? She's not 'mine'. And Father will never find out about Violetta and I. Besides, I do not truly believe that she and I will last...much longer."

"So you have given up on Muggles and all their nonsense?"

"I never said that, Cyg. I have no plans of letting go of all these Muggles. They fascinate me. The way they survive _without _magic. It is so...interesting."

"Father is still going to disown you when he finds out, though."

….

"Hello, Phineas." It was Sirius, Phineas' eldest brother, the oldest of the Black sons. He was twenty, engaged to Hesper Gamp, a plain woman with little imagination. She suited Sirius fine enough, as both were of the stereotypical Pureblood mind and did not seem to see much more beyond their own family or their own ideas.

"Good evening, Sirius. I thought you had packed all your things up already." Sirius and Phineas had shared the same room for sixteen years now, but Sirius was moving out today, for good.

Phineas, though the second son, was his father's favorite child, and therefore, laid claim to a home he did not want. It was drafty and cold and had an air of sorrow. The elves heads-a disturbing and horrifying tradition started by his aunt Elladora-seemed to stare mournfully down, as if blaming Phineas for their predicament.

"I have finished, yes. Can I not say good-bye to my oldest little brother? You are four years my junior, but so many years wiser, I can see that clearly enough. I wanted to give you a bit of advice before I depart your home for good, brother."

"It is not my home just yet, Sirius. It is still in the possession of Father and Auntie Elladora, if you remember."

"Of course I do, Phineas. I only meant what is to be your home. A slip of the tongue, is all that was."

"'A Black must always speak with consideration, knowing that their every move and every thought is being noted.'" said Phineas, quoting the orders their father had pounded into their heads years ago.

"Of course. As I said, you are wise beyond your years, my brother. I fear you may even be beyond me."

'There is no doubt about that, Sirius.' Phineas thought to himself.

"As I was saying, this house shall be yours one day, and you shall head the Black family. Before I go, I just wanted you to know this: not _all _of the old Pureblood families are entirely content with the idea of blood purity. They-I am speaking mostly of the Weasley family here, as they seem to be the most prominent, if you ask me-are beginning to get the silly idea that the Muggles and the Mudbloods deserve equal rights as us! That they are just as decent as we are, if a little lacking in magic. You must understand that these people will try to convince you that blood purity does not matter, that the Muggles are just as good as we are. This is not true. Watch out for people like that, my brother. Be careful. The blood traitors, as it were, will do anything to change your mind."

"Thank you for your wise advice, Sirius." said Phineas, recalling his meeting just a few days ago with Violetta. "I shall take this to heart and will do well to look out for these 'blood traitors' as you call them. Be safe and happy with your future bride. _Toujours pur_, right?"

Sirius gave him a someone dirty smirk. "And you, good luck in your search for a beautiful, pure wife to grant our parents with heirs. Make sure she is pretty, yes?"

"Indeed."

….

_**Completely new experience for me! I don't usually write about the Blacks and usually not so far back in time. (sheepishly hides all nine stories about Andromeda Tonks and Narcissa Malfoy and grins assuringly) Don't worry, there WILL be more. (Four more chapters, actually) **_


	2. Chapter 2

_**Chapter 2 of I, Phineas! Please, at least enjoy a little. Feedback would be nice, but, as usual, is not necessary. Oh my goodness, story, why are you so slow?! **_

….

(November, 1897)

In many ways, Phineas was very weak. He, for the most part, listened to everything his father told him to do. He didn't dare be in any house but Slytherin. He found himself unable to tell his father the truth about Violetta. He was, to most eyes, the perfect son; respectful, attentive, ready. It was Arcturus who got in trouble, Arcturus who had detentions every other day.

So, it was to Phineas' great surprise when he received a note, calling him up to his father's office. (Who, if you recall, was the Headmaster of the school that Phineas attended.)

"Good evening, Phineas." his father began, looking at him from across the desk. The headmaster's office was full of portraits of all the previous headmasters, who seemed to look down at Phineas, smirking at his predicament. Behind him, little inventions on shelves made noises. His father's garden of daisies-magically enchanted to talk-chattered away. None of this made him feel any calmer.

"I am sure you are more than a little curious as to why I pulled you into my office. I merely wanted to mention that we have been having some..._problems _amongst the students."

"Problems, sir?" At school, Phineas Nigellus was not _father_, but rather 'sir'. It was, as Phineas Nigellus put it, "the respectful and polite thing to do. It also avoids any feelings of resentment or bitterness." If that is what Phineas the younger's father truly thought he did not get in trouble for being the son of the headmaster, he was sadly mistaken. The foolish, reckless Gryffindors liked to make a point of punishing him for his blood and heritage. It also didn't help that his father had made him prefect and would probably assign him the role of Head Boy next year, as well.

"Yes, problems. There seems to be some discontent between the Purebloods and the...ahem, _Muggleborn_s." Another word that differed from home life. Behind closed doors, Phineas Nigellus was more than fine with saying 'Mudblood'.

"I do not think I quite understand, sir. What do you mean, discontent? Have there been any fights, any duels that you know of? I have not heard of anything, if that is what you want to know. Not a word."

"No, I have not brought you up here to discuss mere _gossip_, Phineas. You are so much wiser than _gossip_, you are worth so much more. No, Phineas, my intention for you is different. I want you to stamp _out _the fights, the brawls, the duels. Make sure everyone understands my policy. I do not want the Muggleborns here, but the school board insisted people would resist. Here they are, despite our best intentions! If we can not rid ourselves of them, then we must _control _them." Phineas looked at him blankly. "_Control, control!_ That's the key, son! If we are in charge of the dirty, filthy Mudbloods-"

"Sir!" Phineas said, reminding his father where he was. A portrait or two shifted uneasily, but none of them 'woke up' from their false sleep.

"My bad, Phineas. As I was saying, if we can control the opinions of the population, then we are in control of the Muggleborns and their standing here at Hogwarts. I see, one day, a great future. One in which the Smuggler-if they even exist any more, at that point-have their own separate schools, away from those of greater standing. Imagine, laws that avoid the mixing of blood, the distilling of purity. How beautiful that day shall be."

"It sounds wonderful, yes, Father."

"And it shall all be so soon! I want you, Phineas, to pass along the news of this great future. But discreetly. Do not hand out fliers or hang up notices, but use word of mouth. We do not want them to know of our goals until it is too late, you understand. They find out too soon and all we have is a mess on our hands. Get your Slytherin friends involved, in any way you can. Just remember, Phineas, the goal is to do this, but do not make it _obvious _what you are doing. Do you understand me?"

"Spread the word, but be smart about it?"

"You are a smart boy. I can tell you will grow up and do great things."

"May I just ask one thing, sir? Why are you not telling Arcturus this? He, too, attends this school."

"I know where my son is, Phineas. You are smart, you are sixteen years old, almost seventeen. You know what you are doing, what is expected of you, as the heir to the Black family. Your brother...well, Arcturus is only thirteen, and a foolish child at that. You know how he is, always getting into trouble, the professors always talking about him. It would not do to have such a foolish, reckless boy be in charge of what is already a very precarious situation. He will cause naught but trouble."

"Yes, sir, but, perhaps when he is older-"

"If he matures, he may help out in any way that he can, but for now, it is only you that we have, and only you that I truly need to lead this. Followers, oh yes, we will need people to support and stand behind us, but for now, there must only be one leader and it must be you. Or, at least _seem _to be you."

"What do you mean?"

"Oh, I shall stand in the shadows and direct from behind, of course. But you, _you _will be the face of our mission."

"For blood purity, yes?"

"Of course! For Merlin's sake, boy, have you not been listening? Of course this is all for blood purity, it has always been for blood purity! That is, and shall_ always _remain our most important goal."

"Yes, sir. I understand, sir."

"Good. You are dismissed, Phineas Black. I hope that I shall not see you again in my office?"

"No, sir. Absolutely not, sir." Talking to his father always made Phineas feel very childish and silly, even if he was not in the wrong at all.

"And send your brother in, please. He should be waiting to have yet _another _discussion about his ridiculous behavior."

"Yes, sir."

Yes, Phineas was weak in very many ways. He did as his father said; he sent his brother up, he told his mates about the big secret plan. He did not argue, did not fight back. But, if there was one thing he could hold onto, it was the firm idea planted into his head that his father was without a doubt, one hundred percent, wrong. The Muggleborns deserved just as much a chance as the Purebloods.

And, even if he was disowned or banned, or expelled-or even killed-over the matter, Phineas would always hold these ideas to be the truth. Even if he never acted upon them.

….

_Dear Phineas,_

_I miss you so very much and I am already counting the days until your return. Why did you have to attend your father's boarding school in Scotland? If you had only stayed here, with me, we could have attended St. Mary's and St. Timothy's together. (Recall how I told you that they were coupled schools, boys in one and girls in the other?) It would have been so romantic and I could show you off to all of my dorm-mates and friends. They are having a Christmas ball and I had wished you could attend as my date, but instead I am taking my third cousin Matthias, who is a _terrible _dancer, nor is he nearly as handsome as you. _

_I hope that you think of me everyday, as I do you. As I put on my uniform for school, as Matilda combed my hair, all I could think of was your dark eyes and hair, your smooth skin. You, Phineas, you are the reason for my very existence. I breath so that I might see you again, my lips on yours. Oh, Phineas, the day that we shall marry, when I become Mrs. Phineas Black! This day-and only this day-shall be my happiest. No other can compare. _

_Today, we-_

Phineas paused for a moment, shaking his head. 'Only this day'? 'I breath that I might see you again.'? What was she writing, a romance novel? Violetta had not a bit of sense in her head, sometimes. Yes, she was pretty, but what was the point of pretty if it was all for naught? If she could not produce heirs worth boasting of?

But, then again, she would do well to make others jealous. It was also true, it had to be said, that Vi was very good in maintaining a home, as well as understanding how to please a man, even if she _was _only fourteen.

_-learned how to take care of our future children in class. The boys, at St. Timothy's, are most likely learning how to care for their wives and families, which I suppose you do not need help with. Everyone says how smart, how wise, you are, Phineas. I believe them. You seem to know so much and I am proud to call you mine. I can not wait, Phineas. The children you and I will have!; they shall be entirely perfect, like you. _

_Have you noticed my penmanship has improved? Yes, Nurse Agnes has said that my hand is steadier, my words more clear and easy to read. You, Phineas, were most likely _born _able to write beautifully. _

_I shall write to you as soon as I can. See you at Christmas time?_

_Love,_

_Violetta _

….

"I 'eard some interesting news the other day." announced Marquis Crabbe a few weeks later, settling in his seat next to Phineas. Marquis had squinty, piggish eyes and dull, oily brown hair. Usually, he seemed to struggle to solve even the simplest of problems, but occasionally had moments of bright intelligence.

"What is that, then?" asked Brigitte Gamp, the youngest sister of Hesper Gamp, Phineas' brother Sirius' fiancee. "Anyone gotten married or had a baby?"

"Even better. Someone 'as _died._"

"How is _that _better, Marquis?"

"Because it was a no-good Muggle, that is why. A filthy Muggle what got no place in _our _community. My brother, Edger, says he suffered pretty good, too. Is that not good, Brigitte? One less worthless 'uman being to waste space?"

"I suppose.." said Brigitte, not looking very sure. "But, only if they truly deserved it. A Muggle, you said?"

"Aye."

"Where, exactly?" asked a Fifth Year. "Where was the Muggle from?"

"Ah, London, I think. Near abouts where Phineas lives, actually."

"Really?" asked Phineas, looking up suddenly. "Male or female? How old?"

"I dunno, do I? I would assume male, o'course. Why d'you care so much about some pathetic Muggle, Black?"

"I do not, Marquis. I was only curious; perhaps it was someone I knew."

"You know Muggles, then?"

Realizing he was in a corner, Phineas tried to laugh it off. "Only just barely, Crabbe. I am a _Black_, for Merlin's sake. What would I want to do with a Muggle? I could not marry it, it would be completely worthless to me, you know."

"Of course."

….

_Dear Phineas,_

_Have you heard? Has anyone told you? Oh, Phineas! You are so far away, but I hope that our neighbors are close to your heart as they are mine. _

_It is tragic, Phineas. Mr. Smythe, the nice man a few doors down from me, died in his sleep a week ago. They are not sure why or how, only that he does not seem to have suffered. Oh, how glad I am that it was nothing that could cause harm to you or I. Please tell me that you are okay and not too shaken. I am shivering as I write this, wondering if Mr. Smythe is happy, wherever he is. Grandfather says Mr. Smythe is in hell, but I do not believe so. Such a nice man, he _must _be in heaven, right? _

_Hope you are well, all matters put aside. _

_Love, _

_Violetta _

_P.S. My sister found out about you and I the other day! She found the letters you have sent to me over the last two years. Please do not get mad, she promises not to tell. You know the one I am talking about, Margaret? She is trustworthy. It will all be okay, and soon you and I will be married so that _everyone _will know about our love. _

….

Phineas had no intention of marrying Violetta. Perhaps he ought to have mentioned that to her earlier in their relationship, when it was not so complicated. But, now, people were beginning to find out the truth and soon the wrong people would see the truth. What was he going to do if his father or mother found out?

He did not approve of his family's believes, but he did not want to be homeless, nameless, and penniless at the age of sixteen.

….

_**For the record, St. Mary's-as far as I know-isn't a real place. I mean it is, just not the one I wrote about in the story. Not in England, anyway. But, have you noticed there are a lot of St. Mary's? I know a hospital, two Catholic private schools, a city, and four church by that name. Plus, I used to attend a daycare called St. Timothy's, which was connected to a St. Mary's, my parents used to attend a St. John's, we used to go to a church called St. Mark, and my cousin got married and baptized her only child at a St. Peter's. **_

_**And we're not even Catholic. We're just Lutheran. Think about it, though. St. Alejandro. St. Mashed Potatoes. St. Fried Steak and Green Beans with Nasty Lemonade for a drink. (My dinner when writing this chapter, of course.) **_

_**Sorry for the random chatter, please ignore, and (if you wish) just leave a review. It can be about anything. The chapter, the many St.'s, what you had for dinner. **_

_**Do you KNOW how hard it it to refrain from using contractions?! I have no idea if they used them in the 1890s, but I somehow doubt the Blacks would've. This is driving me mad. **_


	3. Chapter 3

_**Hey, guys, it be me again! Please enjoy. This is where it gets dark. Also, I am setting up new readers for a complete and total lie. Ask anyone reading Ultimum. (I should really go update that, oughtn't I? It's been months...sigh) Also, any reader of Ultimum will tell you I am a fan of Author Note's. Really big fan. **_

_**Confusing time jump: go! (Seriously, last chapter it was 1897...I am evil, no?) **_

….

(September, 1903)

Phineas looked down at his nephew, who had the characteristic Black family sharp nose and high cheekbones. He seemed, already, the kind who was willing to smirk at anyone and everyone; in short, just another Black. In fact, there seemed to very little of his blonde mother, Hesper. The boy, now two, smiled back up at him, nearly a mirror image of Sirius.

"Hello, baby." he said quietly, turning to look for Hesper or at least a house elf. He did not really want to be stuck with a baby, especially if it was going to start crying. It was not crying _yet_, but one never knew, with babies. "Where is your mother?"

"Mamma." the boy repeated, looking pleased with himself. "Mamma, Mamma. Mamma _big_." This was true. Hesper was already, quite heavily in all truth, pregnant with Sirius' second child, which he claimed was going to be another beautiful boy.

"Good morning, Phineas. It is nice to see you here. I was not aware you had dropped by; Sirius is not here yet."

"I am not here to talk to Sirius, I am here to talk to you, Hesper."

"Me?" she blushed. "I-I do not t-think I-I...me? Why do you want me, Phineas?"

"I was curious about Brigitte." Brigitte, his future bride, when she was done with her schooling. She was Hesper's youngest sister, a delicate nineteen year old that Phineas found himself incapable of loving. She was foolish-even more so than Violetta had been-and empty-headed. Brigitte, Phineas noted sadly, seemed to care for nothing more than marrying Phineas and being a midwife at St. Mungo's, which is what she was currently studying to do. "I am engaged to her, yet know so little. She seems quite distant from me, even more so because of our natures. I was wondering, as her sister and as my sister-in-law, perhaps you could tell me about her. I would not want to have a marriage like my brother's, knowing nothing about his bride."

"Oh." Hesper nodded, looking thoughtful. She bended down to pick Arcturus, cuddling him in a way that Phineas could never recall from his own mother. Ursula Black had never been an affection person, even to her death in 1892. Phineas-indeed, most likely _all _his siblings-had found it hard to find remorse for the cold-hearted woman. "Follow me," she commanded softly, leading him to the kitchen.

….

(January, 1901)

What he did was completely inexcusable. He was not drunk, and he was not cursed. This was all on his own hands, the murder of two innocent people. He did not understand why he had to be born into such a family as his. Or why he had to make the mistakes he did. Later, he would say it might have been for the better, but more often than not, he merely shook his head and wished he had the guts to stop everything before it was too late. Even if he did not _love _Violetta, he at least _cared _for her, as a human being, one to another.

Inexcusable.

Violetta crossed her arms over her chest, looking self-conscious. She was pretty as ever, wearing her hair in a neat braid; her skirts were clean and fresh as ever. But she glared up at him, and in this case she was _not _beautiful, but annoying. Annoying and full of excuses and words he did not want to hear.

"I do not understand, Violetta. What do you mean?" he shook his head, as if that would get rid of the nonsense she was speaking.

"What do I mean? What do I _mean_? I mean, Phineas, that you have lied to me and deceived me! You promised me a happy life as your bride, living in comfort and peace. And now...now, I find that you have been engaged to some girl I have never even heard mentioned!"

"It was not my choice, Vi, I assure you-"

"Do not call me Vi! I am no longer Vi! I can not believe this! Six years, _six years_ I loved you and all for naught! My grandfather was right, you were only looking to leave me ashamed and begotten. You never loved me."

"Violetta, I do love you, even as I am promised to another woman. Every time I shall kiss her, I will only think of you. You are my only love, Violetta. This is not my choice to marry the girl. She is not who I love, you are.

"I do not believe you, Phineas. I can tell, you are glad to be rid of me. It has been more and more obvious over the years that you have lost any love you once had for me, if you ever did. I do not believe you and I am not sure I love you anymore, myself."

"I know, and it hurts me that you do not."

"I am pregnant, did you know?" It came out suddenly and she blushed, looking scandalized. '_Did you know?_' What kind of question was that? He did not, of course he did not. She sobbed silently, clearly embarrassed, looking just a little not quite as pretty as usual. Her make-up, so neatly applied this morning, ran down her face and he stepped away, feeling flustered and ashamed. Surely he had not...he could not have, he had not touched her that way in several months.

"Yes, I am. No, Phineas, it is not your baby, so you need not worry. I can see it on your face, that obvious franticness, the fear that you have shamed yourself along with me. But, it is not yours; you have no claim to it. I promise you that."

"If not mine, then who's, might I ask?"

"Y-Your brother's. Arcturus." She flinched, seeing the angry look on his face. "I am sorry, Phineas, but I had mistaken him for you, you are all so alike!"

"When?"

"Earlier!" He stepped closer. "In December; oh, Phineas, please, I thought...it was dark, and I thought you had snuck out to see me, it had been so long."

"But he knew, did he not? He knew who you were?"

"Yes, but he did not tell me until it was too late. Oh, he looked so much like you in the dark!"

"That is no excuse, Violetta," Phineas growled, fingering the wand in his pocket. "Whether my brother looks like me does not matter. You loved me and now.."

"Why does it matter? You shall not marry me anyway. You have this other woman that you want more than I."

"Whether I marry you or not is not the problem. The problem is you have conceived with a man who can not-and will not-take responsibility for you or your offspring. Do you understand me?You shall not marry Arcturus, either. He, too, is being picked for his own young, sweet bride. Your child, Violetta, will mean nothing to my family. We will not take you in, do you understand? You and your filthy child will mean nothing to my father and certainly not to Arcturus."

"B-But.."

His voice had gotten terribly cold as he looked down on her. "They were right. You Muggles, completely worthless for anything more than a bit of fun." He did not mean it, but he was angry. Occasionally, Phineas could not control his anger, and bad things happened. He did not mean it, afterwards, but in the moments, he meant it with all his being, and that made it so much worse.

"I do not understand, Phineas."

"Oh, do you not?"

"No...what is going on, Phineas?"

"Your blood..it is tainted, Violetta...you and that baby's. My father..my father says we do not need tainted blood."

"Are you drunk?"

"Drunk? No." He laughed, very coldly. Violetta, in front of him, shaken and sobbing and scared, seemed to be no longer the same. No longer human, but rather something that he could discard, like a broken toy. "No, I am not. Angry, yes. But, I have realized the truth. Arcturus need never know about his mixing of blood."

"I do not...please, Phineas...what do you mean?"

He smirked, although inside, he was squirming. This was all supposed to be his _father's_ thing. He, Phineas, did not want the Muggles dead. He did not, honestly. But, for a few moments, he was too angry to care. For a few moments, he was completely a Black. And _that_, more than anything else, terrified him. But he could not stop. Could not restrain himself, did not want to.

"Please, Phineas, I do not understand. Please...please..."

She had to pay. She had to. He was not going to marry her and she was having a filthy baby with Arcturus, who did not love her. She meant nothing. She _was _nothing. Not anymore. Filthy.

"_Avada_..."

….

(January, 1901) (A week later)

"Whatever happened to your Muggle, Phineas?" Arcturus asked shortly after breakfast, trying his best to look like did not care.

"I have not idea. Why do you ask?"

"Only because you are engaged to that Gamp girl and because your Muggle seems to have disappeared."

"She died. A week ago; they are not sure why." he did not blink, did not react. Arcturus grew pale, however, and shook his head.

"Are you not concerned, brother? I thought you loved your Muggle girl. Or was she truly so worthless to you?"

"I had no real love for her, Arcturus. She was nothing more than a play toy, as all Muggles are. But, of course, you knew that already, did you not?"

"I have no idea what you mean, brother. I do not understand." He chuckled nervously, but Phineas knew the truth and he hated his brother for it.

"Are you the reason she is dead, then, Phineas?"

"Perhaps. Who can know? Mayhaps, a certain lover killed her in a fit of rage, knowing what he did."

"And what was it that he knew?"

"She was pregnant, Arcturus. With your child. She needed to die; why does it matter, she was filth anyway."

"You are right, of course, dear brother. Of course. She meant nothing to me, anyway. I would not have taken her or her filthy child in."

"Why did you..."

"I do not recall the incident. Perhaps I was drunk."

"Perhaps you were," _Perhaps you were not, and were merely using her, as you do most of your women, Arcturus. I know of the others, do not think otherwise. _But he had not the courage to accuse his brother of any such crime. He had been in Slytherin, not Gryffindor. That kind of courage was what normal people called stupidity. Phineas would much rather live than be proven right.

He walked away, feeling ashamed of himself. How could he have told such lies? How could he live such a life, knowing he said one thing and yet felt so much differently in his heart and in his mind? The Muggles...they were much more than play toys. They were _people_. He had killed a girl-and an innocent child-merely to save face, to remain his father's favorite son. Death, to avoid being turned out onto the street. He was truly a Black and a Slytherin. He hated himself for it. Merlin, it hurt to have to keep up with all the lies. The pain and guilt, knowing Violetta was dead and knowing what he had done.

….

"I didn't originally love Sirius, of course. How could I? I knew, as you say, nothing about him. What did he like? What did he hate? Would he even want me? It was...hard, at first. The first year, I found it impossible to touch him; I could not even force myself. I expected that Sirius would beat me into submission, as my first sister had been, by her husband. But your brother...he was very gentle. _Is _very gentle. Yes, he will slap me in public, but that is expected. He...he cares so much more for Arcturus and I than I could have hoped. He truly loves me, I can tell."

"And you? Do you love him?"

"How could I not? He provides me with all that I need and he does not push me to do what I do not want to do. It, this, was a marriage of pure luck, that it worked out so well. I thank God everyday for it."

"God?"

"Did Brigitte not tell you? Oh, yes." she laughed slightly. "We Gamps are a religious lot, it is true. You shall have to get used to it. Brigitte will want the children baptised, I must say."

"Arcturus.."

"Is baptised. As this one will be."

"Does she like me? Brigitte, I mean? Does she ever speak of me? I was never too terribly close to my siblings; Sirius was always so busy being the eldest and Arcturus did not...he was not someone I felt like associating myself with. The others, Cygnus and Belvina, they were so much younger than me, I did not know how to handle them. But Brigitte, she is close in age to you, is she not?" It was true. Hesper was only twenty-one now, sixteen at the time of her marriage. She had never finished Hogwarts, rather having married Sirius. Hesper had explained she had little want, or need, to fulfill her education; all she ever intended to be was a mother.

"Yes, Brigitte and I were closer than most siblings of our standing. I...I..she speaks of you, yes. Sometimes, it is in anger, sometimes in love. She finds you handsome and smart, but worries for your morals and ambition. You have no job, no apparent desire to do anything successful with your life."

"I assure you and your sister, we shall have no need of more money."

"Oh? Yes, I forgot, your father leaves you the fortune. I recall, at school, how they called you the favorite son. More beloved than even Sirius, so much that the Headmaster named you after himself. 'He will do great things, Phineas the younger.' That is the kind of things I hear, every day."

"You hate me, then. For taking away the fortune that should go to your husband?"

"No." she laughed again, looking honest. "No, I do not. We have enough, we are happy. I only worry.._can _you live up to the potential as Phineas Nigellus' treasured son? Can you live up to my sister's expectations of the great man she believes you to be?"

"I do not know. I shall try, though. I promise you both that, you and Brigitte. I shall try to love her as much as my brother does you."

"This is all I ask,"

….

_**I forgot to mention this in the last chapter, but Brigitte is actually a third year at the time of the last chapter. So, she is nineteen here, but is busy finished her studies to become a Healer before marrying Phineas. Also, I'm fairly certain it was pretty common for two brothers to marry two sisters. **_

_**Phineas, chatting it up with his sister-in-law. Don't worry, it's all good. Hesper is going to die in ten years, anyway, and Phineas is going to be disowned, which means he can't do crap with any of the Gamps. **_

_**I originally intended for Violetta to die in the next chapter, but then I decided the next chapter is when everyone finds out where Phineas' loyalties truly lie. (insert really dumb evil laugh here) I have nothing against Slytherins-one of my friends at school is 'in' Slytherin and we like to tease each other over it. This is merely from the viewpoint of someone who regrets being in Slytherin. P.S. I am in Ravenclaw...home of the not-badgers...:( **_

_**In other, less important news, I am no longer failing Geometry! Whoohoo! Take that, math! (Seriously, though, I have a 95% in that class...after dropping down to the easy class..., but I have an 81% for semester average, which is WAY better than what my 1st teacher said I would get...which was, like, a 72% or something.) **_


	4. Chapter 4

_**Hey! Welcome to chapter 4! (hides behind large statue) Sorry, I'm feeling shy today/tonight. Ignore me. Everyone else does. (tries a sad face, but grins anyway) **_

_**Oh, what do you care? Just...go on to the story, alright? **_

….

(January, 1906)

_She was a delicate child. So fragile. We are sorry for your loss. So young, she did not deserve such a fate. And both at the such a close time. Please accept our condolences, Mr. Black. She was always a sweet girl. I remember her at school, do you? Oh, yes! She was-that one girl in Slytherin-yes, the sweet sister-I think they were all sweet. The poor girl. Her poor father. I was speaking of the woman. Oh, yes. But, really, she lived her last happy, did she not? Married to Mr. Black, as she was? But the babe..? But a few months old, at best. She was baptized, yes? Of course. Good. I should not want such a sweet little babe to not be with her mamma in Heaven. Do you think? How could she not be? Of course, yes, I only meant..Oh, here he is, I was just saying about that little girl..._

The house elf wandered between mourners, squeezing by with a platter over her head. She was old, but not yet old enough to have been beheaded, as her mother was. In fact, there was her mother now, hanging on the wall. It disgusted her, seeing Mother's head, closed eyes and unsettling glare. Where was the secret smile between Mother and child? Where was the brown eyes, so worn, but still peaceful, even as they grew blind? The people above him, human witches and wizards, paid her no mind. She was invisible. They gabbed and chatted about the death of a little girl and her mother, as if it were just as exciting as a wedding or such.

She hated humans, the whole lot of them. Even Master Phineas-her owner-saw her as nothing more than a battered, aging servant; something to kick when the bread was burnt or the washing still wet. She was a house elf, not a daughter. Master Phineas' girl was dead, dead and buried in the garden next to her mean, house elf abusing mamma. The mistress was just a wee lady, yes, only twenty-two, were she still alive and breathing. The baby mistress but seven months old. Both gone, leaving poor Lolly, for that is what she was named-the unfortunate Lolly- with Master Phineas, who seemed to be not but wasting away, even when the people brought over food (obviously made by other house elves.) and drinks.

Outside, the little gravestone was sprinkled with frost, a week of being and already forlorn. She shivered, making a sign to ward off evil, and continued through the crowd, nearly tripping over as a particularly loud woman bumped into Lolly's tray.

"Hey, watch it, elf!" the woman said, glaring down at Lolly. Lolly sighed, mumbled a quick "yes ma'am" towards her, and continued on. She really _did _hate people, wizards especially. _Rich, stuffy, old _witches were the absolute worst of all.

….

Was he meant to feel remorse? Pain? What? What did he say, who did he say it to?

_You are the heir to the Black family. Prove it. Make these people understand that a Black never falters, never gives up. We are immortally strong, forever prepared. Cry, yes, at the funeral. Do not make yourself appear weak, though. This is the greatest sin. _

Brigitte, dead these past seven months. A baby that he had tried-and failed-to raise on his own. Yes, Lolly the house elf did most of the work, but it was his daughter.

_You will have to remarry, of course. You still need an heir. A male heir. _

Of course his father was always thinking of the Black line, of the power this family held. No one minded his tears at the burial, but his stony expression, his dark eyes, seemed to scare off most guests. How long would it last, how long until he would be expected to wed once more? Brigitte...Brigitte was no Violetta, not by a long shot. Nowhere near as pretty and only a tad smarter. He felt no passion with her, forcing himself into bed each night. Forcing his hand towards her. He did not love her and she knew it.

_You will need an heir. Marry soon and marry wise, my son. You are the face of the Black family now. Remember that, always. _

….

(May, 1905)

She was large with child, over eight months now. The house was much too hot and she sweated, hovering over her sewing. Her lines were wobbly as she blinked away the sweat in her eyes, cursing Phineas under her breath. They had been married not two years, and what did she have to show for it? A golden ring and a swollen belly. She wondered if this is how her sister felt, having two children of her own.

All men were pigs, she decided. Silly pigs that needed to be taken care of. They were incompetent and foolish, needing the firm hand of a woman. Especially Phineas, who seemed reluctant of her love each night as they crawled into bed. He had used her condition of late as an excuse to stop making love, but she had seen the obvious relief when Brigitte agreed.

Brigitte recalled the recent mentionings of her eldest cousin being caught in bed with another man and the scandal it had caused. How he had been turned out of his own home and left without a name to call himself by. Was it possible Phineas was the same way?

"Good evening, Brigitte," said Phineas, walking through the study door. She looked up, startled. She had not even heard the front door, something she scolded herself on. Who knew what was out there, just waiting to hurt a heavily pregnant woman as herself.

"Phineas," she replied, nodding at him. That was another thing. Most couples she knew of seemed to have little names for each other or at least affectionate greetings. Phineas never called her more than 'Sweet Little Brigitte', but more often she was just Brigitte and he was just Phineas. He did not cry out her name during their passion. Was she not good enough for him, the great heir to the Blacks? What touch did he prefer over her's?

That night, Phineas claimed he had too much work to join her in bed. She waited for him for several hours before crying herself to sleep, wishing she knew what to do to be a better wife for him. He was not there in the morning, his side of the bed untouched.

….

(March, 1907)

Phineas Nigellus was getting on in age, he knew. At least, in Muggle terms, he was decently old. Amongst Wizarding standards, he was little more than middle-aged, in the prime of his life. However, Phineas did not feel it. His bones creaked and ached and his breath shuddered every now and then, fluttering uncertainly. He was sixty years old, the father of five, the grandfather of three. His youngest was now eighteen, just in his last few months of school. He was still the headmaster at Hogwarts, had been for nearly thirty years.

He was old and, on most accounts, content. His second son, his favorite child, Phineas, was doing him proud, holding up the great name of Black. The only thing the boy-for Phineas Nigellus would always see his child as boys and girls, even when they were forty or fifty-lacked was a proper bride. His last one, a Gamp girl, had been an arranged marriage, a properly decent one, in Phineas Nigellus' not-so-humble opinion. She had died, the child with her, yes, a tragic accident, but a setback, nonetheless. Phineas would need to remarry.

_'You need an heir_.' he had told his son, just hours after the boy had cradled his daughter's lifeless body in his hands. _'A proper heir, a boy. I know it is soon, but you are not getting any younger, my son.'_

_'Yes, Dad. A new wife. Yes.' _Phineas, always the obedient son. Always following the rules. _'Would you mind...'_

_'Finding a girl for you? Of course I can. I arranged the first one by myself, did I not? No, I can do this. No frets, Phineas.'_

That had been a year ago and Phineas had still not accepted his idea of marrying the Yaxley girl. Instead, Phineas Nigellus had been forced to wed the girl to his younger son, Arcturus. Arcturus.._that _one was enough to shame a man to an early grave.

Sighing, Phineas continued down the hallway of the second floor, where he knew his son used to sleep. Now, the old bedroom lay dark and abandoned.

_'Too many memories of Brigitte.' _he claimed, though both knew Phineas the younger held his bride with mutual respect, at best.

Phineas Nigellus cracked the door open, glancing around. The room was settled with dust and eerily quiet. Phineas couldn't explain what had pulled him into this room, but he felt queasy and the room seemed to upset him for a reason he could not fathom. The same feeling pulled him towards a dresser drawer-_off limits_, according to Phineas-and opened it.

It was empty but for a a thick stack of letters, already yellowing, though they were probably no older than five or six years. He glanced at one and then another, first curious, then horrified. The unsettled feeling strengthened as he continued reading, eventually so great that he threw the letters to the ground.

_Dear Phineas, _began one

_Phin, _started another. (Phin? Phineas Nigellus would have cursed anyone who called him 'Phin'.)

_Phinny, My love, Darling, Baby, _all little pet names that he did not recall Phineas the younger calling his bride, nor Phineas Nigellus having ever called his own wife.

_Can we not love each other as two people should? _

_Should you deny that you care for me, just because your father says there is..something wrong? _

_What is wrong with being 'not magic', Phinny? I can not see why no one in your family shall love me any less. _

_I know your father hates me, Phineas, but...can he not accept us? As we are, perfect?_

_Brigitte? You have found a bride, without telling me? Why, because your father said to? Phineas, you ought not do everything your father says to. You will have to grow up eventually, Phineas. _

Each letter was signed _Love, Violetta. _

Phineas Nigellus remembered a young girl a few doors down, two years younger than Phineas. She had died several years ago, but most importantly, she had been _Muggle_. _Muggle. _His son had loved a _Muggle. _His favorite son, his heir. With a _Muggle. _He felt so ashamed. He felt embarrassed and angry...words could not explain how he felt. He..his favorite son. Oh, Merlin, why.

"Phineas!"

His favorite son.

….

He was turned out without any money, his name and title taken away. His name, personally blasted off by Belvina, who did it with a ferocious, snarling grin. She smirked as Arcturus and Sirius led him to the door, taunting him.

"See what your little Muggle did to you? See what it got you, with your little whore? You always thought you were so better than any of us, simply because you were Father's favorite, and now look at you. No better than the Muggles you gave yourself up for. You disgust me." she spat in his face and he moved to strike her.

"Arcturus got my Muggle pregnant, did you know?" said Phineas, glaring back at them. "I killed her for it, but he got her pregnant."

"I did no such thing!" Arcturus cried, going red. Leaning on Sirius' arm, Hesper shook her head, as if incapable of believing such lies. "He is telling you falsehoods. Look at how traitorous he has already been! Why should we trust him, Father? Turn him out, now."

"You little hypocrite! You bastard! _You got her pregnant! You left her!_"

"You killed her." Arcturus replied. Phineas went red, lunging at him.

"I will kill you!" Phineas Nigellus nodded at Sirius, who grabbed his brother around the waist, pushing him away.

"Leave, now. I know you regret your past actions, but we can not allow you to tarnish our name" said Phineas Nigellus sharply, pushing him out the door. "Go away. Do not ever come back. You are never to return; you are no longer a Black and we do not welcome _blood traitors _into our home."

"Nasty, nasty little blood traitor," simpered Belvina, grinning at Phineas from the safety of the house.

"Hush, child." Phineas Nigellus snapped, shutting the door, leaving Phineas alone.

How could he regret love? How could he, knowing it had been real, at least for those two childish years.

….

(November, 1910)

"Bastard." Phineas snarled at the cloaked man, who merely shuddered, pulling off his hood. It was Arcturus, whom Phineas had not seen in three years. In fact, this was his first contact with the Black family since they had turned him out. He no longer carried the name Black, but instead called himself Hycroft, after Violetta. He had renounced his old family just as much as they did him. "You lying little bastard. I ought to murder you as we speak."

"But you do not."

"I ought to. You coward, only showing up cloaked, in the dead of night, when you know no one else can see you." Downstairs, someone shouted drunkenly and there was the sound of breaking glass. Arcturus winced.

"How can you stand it here, amongst all these poor, filthy Muggles?"

"How were you able to stand touching Violetta?"

"I did no such thing. I never wanted that filthy whore. You lie."

"I do not want to see you, Arcturus. Not ever. Remember what your father said? No talking to the shamed."

"He is your father, too-"

"No he is not! We do not claim each other! That...man..he does not want me and I do not want your family. I live amongst the Muggles, yes, but that is because I _choose _to. I help them, I fight for them as much as I can, even if I get no respect for it."

"You will die for it."

"I do not care."

"You truly are intent on shaming us, Phineas."

"No, merely intent on doing what is right."

Arcturus shook his head, getting up to leave. "Good-bye for now, Phineas."

"Good-bye for now, Arcturus."

How could he regret leaving a family that offered him nothing? He did not. He never would. No one could make him change his mind, for he had once been a Black and Blacks never gave up.

….

_**Just for kicks, and I'm writing this while totally wiped from studying for geometry test tomorrow, (bad freshman, thinking she can do all this!) I'm going to show you this fancy (heh) new website I found that randomizes choices, for those who have challenges with many choices. (Or just have a life with many choices.):**_

.

_**It be fancysauce.**_

_**By the way, there is one last chapter being written, so don't think I'm done here! **_


	5. Chapter 5

_**Last chapter and I can finally use consanants! AHAHAHAHAHAHA! Sorry, it just gets tiring after a while, you know? Are you guys ready for the end? (I'm not...) **_

….

(May, 1965)

He had outlived them all, oh yes. All gone, the very last one. His father, in 1925. His youngest brother in 1943, then Sirius in '52. Arcturus not seven years later, in 1959 and, lastly, Belvina in 1962. Oh, yes, he had outlived them al and he hated himself even more for it. What was there to do, knowing that he was the only one of his generation left, with only nieces and nephews who did not speak to him. Sure, Marius occasionally visited him from time to time. He was eighty-four now, and Marius had his own family to look after.

'_We can be disowned together, Uncle Phineas. Turning our backs on the lot of them, knowing they've got no place with us. The two of us, knowing we're better than them._' But what did Marius know? He had not grown up with his family, had never been his father's favorite son. Marius was not turned away for loving the wrong person, for believing the wrong thing. No, Marius was a Squib, and Phineas had raised him since he was six years old like he was his very own. Raised him properly, just as he raised his three daughters. His girls.

The Black family had a tradition: _make a name count. Make it have history. _So he did. Violetta, the eldest, was born in 1922 to Phineas and his Muggle wife, Jeannette. The next, Brigitte, was born in 1928. Shortly after the girl's second birthday, Jeannette had died of cancer, leaving Phineas with his two girls and his nephew. And then, in 1940, he adopted three year old Rosella, who's parents had died in Austria.

His children. His last upon this earth, two witch daughters, a Squib nephew, and a Muggle daughter. Most people would have laughed. Most people would have said such a family would never last, would never survive. There were too many risks! Too much conflict! Phineas merely showed them the way his four children calmly interacted with each other, the way they loved one another. _That _was proof enough that Muggles, Squibs, and magical people can and _do _live together peacefully, given the chance and having the right view frame.

But no one would listen. No one wanted to, so caught up in the saving of 'blood purity'. Blood purity? The only way one would get blood purity anymore would be marrying one's own cousin or sister. At least when he had been younger, it had been easier to remain 'pure', without crossing family lines too badly.

'_It's really not so bad, being a Squib. Everyone likes to pretend that being born to wizardsnad not doing magical yourself is somehow painful or something to be ashamed of. Who cares? I don't! Why should I? I'm just as human as them. Just as decent. I'm the same, more or less. Why do they get to decide who I am, based off what I can do?_'

He had married a lovely girl, Rachel or something like that, and had two kids, a boy and a girl. Phineas didn't remember the last time he'd seen them, not that he cared. Marius needed to live his own life. All his children needed to live their own lives, follow their own dreams. In fact, the only one who remained at home with him anymore was Rosella-who he called Rosa-who insisted upon taking care of him.

'_You are eighty-four years old, Papa. What will happen if you get sick? Who will take care of you, if I do not stay with you? I am a nurse, Papa, I can help you._'

'Live your own life' he had told her. 'Be your own person.'

'_But I am,_' she laughed. '_I am. Staying here, helping you-this is who I am, this is who I want to be. Papa, I am twenty-eight years old! It is okay if I do not marry; it's not so uncommon now. I can stay here with you. See you to sleep, when your time comes._'

And so she did. His breathing had gotten wheezier and he coughed during the winters-great coughs that shook his body-but Rosa was there and she took care of him. He had raised her to be independent, and she had chosen to help _him _in his last years.

….

(December, 1950)

"I am not sure when I shall see you again. I am...people are beginning to whisper, Phineas. Whispers, that is all, mind you. But they are whispers none the less." said Arcturus, sitting at Phineas' table, eating his food. Marius sat to the side, thirty-three years old. He looked between his uncles, confused.

"Whispers of what, Uncle Arcturus? What is going on?"

Arcturus smiled grimly, shaking his head. "Whispers of an idea. An idea that the Muggles are not worthy of breathing. That the Muggleborns and Squibs have no place in this world, the magical communtiy-" here Marius flinched briefly. "-and that they're better off just leaving us to it."

"We have always had whispers of this, Arcturus." said Phineas curtly. He was seventy years old and did not have the time or strength to stop rumors that had existed for years.

"But the whispers have grown stronger, Phineas! Ask your girls, they will tell you-"

"My girls are no longer in school and have nothing to do with this, Arcturus. I must ask you to leave them alone."

"You will not risk your flesh and blood, but you allow your nephew to help us?" Arcturus smirked, and for a second, they were teenagers again, discussing 'Phineas' Muggle'.

"I have asked to help, Uncle Arcturus. I want to help fight for equality. At least I do something, instead of bring rumors of nothing."

Arcturus scowled. "You think I do nothing, boy? Simply out of what, spite? Of course I wish I could do better. Do more for you and people like you. But I can not..."

"Arcturus was not made for rebellion, not like you, Marius. He was made to live in comfort, not pain or anything beyond simple annoyances. Do not blame him for this, he is no more at fault for it than you are for being a Squib."

"But all he does is bring news! He doesn't do anything himself!"

"I can not! What is there for me to do, boy? I have a family. I have children and grandchildren to look after. You..you are but a child, still, though the world might acknowledge you as an adult. You know nothing of what war can do. They way it tears entire families apart."

"I served, in the army. I was fighting for the British. Me, I know what war is. Don't tell me I don't."

"Ah, but did you fight your own brother? Did you strike your own sister or mother? No. You killed nameless, faceless Germans. You have not had to turn your own brother out of your house, simply for who he loved." Arcturus nodded at Phineas.

"I have been kicked out of my own family. Or have you forgotten that, _Uncle _Arcturus?"

"You were six! What do you remember of family, other than Phineas here? Who else raised you, schooled you? Certainly not Cygnus!"

They were both standing up now, faces red and hands clenched.

"That is enough, you two. Peace." Phineas said.

….

(May, 1965)

"Papa?" It was Rosa, opening his door to check in. "I'm going to go out for a few hours. You know how to call the police, correct?" She pointed towards the old rotary phone that sat on his desk. He hated the thing and avoiding using it as much as possible.

"I know how to spin a bunch of numbers around. Don't think I've gone senile just yet, Rosa. I'm eighty-four, not stupid."

She smiled. "Never thought you were, Papa. You're smarter than most people I know."

"How long will you be gone?"

"Like I said, two or three hours. It's just with some friends. You know, Bobby and Michelle and a few others. You've met them all."

"Well, good. You need to socialize with people your own age."

"Not funny, Papa."

He grinned at her as she closed the door, then turned back to his newspaper. It was an old copy, several years out of date, but he rarely ventured into the Wizarding world anymore and enjoyed any old scrap of news he could get. Yes, this particular piece was six years old, but it involved him. One ought to keep up with the family, after all.

_November 13th, 1959 _

_Black Family Grows:_

_Just a few days ago, Orion Black (son of Arcturus Black the III, grnadson of Sirius Black the II, great-grandson of Phineas Nigellus) and his wife, Walburga (daughter of Pollux Black, grandaughter of Cygnus II, great-grandaughter of Phineas Nigellus) had their first son at St. Mungo's. A boy, he was named Sirius Orion Black (Sirius the III) and titled as the 'heir of the Black family'. (Orion Black being the current torch holder.) _

_Sirius III will be baptized on November 19th, at the Church of Christ. _

So his great-nephew and great-niece had had a child together. Interesting. He already knew of the three girls that his nephew, Pollux, (who was Cygnus' eldest son) had with some Rosier girl. The eldest two would probably already be in Hogwarts by now.

Perhaps, one day, one of these children would grow up and learn how to defy rules.

….

(February, 1974)

Phineas was lay on his bed, staring up at the ceiling. He was ninety-three and he was dying. He had long ago said good-bye to all his siblings, seen his own children out the door towards their own life. Even Rosa, now thirty-seven, had moved out, though she always sent food and packages to him every day. Phineas was content and ready for the end.

"Hello?" called a voice from downstairs. It was young and female. "Uncle Phineas?"

Phineas blinked, trying to remember the last time he had been called that. Surely it hadn't been that long ago. He was old and his mind failed him often now. Marius..was he still alive? Had he come by?

"Uncle Phineas?" said the voice again. "It's...uh..Andromeda Bl-Tonks. Andromeda Tonks. I'm the daughter of Pollux. Your brother Cygnus' son? Um, I just came by..uh."

"Upstairs, child." he wheezed, straining his voice. He heard the clatter of someone on the stairs and then the door opened to reveal a girl with dark brown hair. She couldn't had been any older than twenty or so, but already seemed so sad.

"Andromeda? A pretty name." he said, smiling. She shook her head, sitting down in the chair next to his bed.

"I..I..uh, Cousin Marius sent me here. He said you'd be the one to ask about being 'disposed' of?"

"Disowned?"

She looked sheepish, but nodded. "A few years ago, yeah. Um..there was this guy, see.."

"Muggle? Muggleborn?"

"Muggleborn. Ted Tonks. Well, _Edward _Tonks, really. He, uh...he was in Hufflepuff. And my sister, Bellatrix-she's the eldest-found out and told my mum and dad. They...they kicked me out."

"Do you regret it?"

"R-regret it? No. I..we got married, Ted and I. We..we have a little girl. Almost a year old, named Nymphadora. She, she can-she's a Metamorphagus. But I've never felt bad about loving him."

"Then why do you need me?"

"How can you stand it, never seeing your family? I can't even meet with my sisters or my cousin Sirius!"

"Arcturus used to secretly meet with me every few months. If any of your family truly loves you, any of them that aren't completely cracked in the mind like most of the Blacks, they'll contact you. You'll know."

"Does it get any easier?"

"Living on your own? Without the support of your family? Sometimes, yes. When you see what you _have _accomplished, all on your own, it makes you feel wonderful. But other times, you'll wonder if it was all worth it, the decisions you made."

"Was it?"

"Absolutely."

"Nymphadora...I could bring her by. You'd love her."

"I would love that, thank you."

….

(October, 1974)

Phineas Black, who was no longer a Black, but a Hycroft-which was as good as being nameless, according to some people- was dead. He was dead and he was peaceful. He had left behind three daughters and a nephew as good as any son. He had left behind nine grandchildren, with two more on the way. He had left behind a name, rarley spoken amongst the Pureblood community, but whispered-in small circles-amongst those he had helped. The Muggles, the Muggleborns, the Squibs; they deserved just as much of a chance. And he had tried to prove that to people, even when they wouldn't listen. Who could blame him for his chocies?

He had left behind a very content young girl who met every few months with the others like her: her cousins Marius and Sirius and her uncle Alphard. Gathered, and not ashamed, to admit that they were no longer Blacks. They were no longer defined by that name or that family.

And somewhere, a little baby, just over a year old, sat listening to her mother talk about how her uncle had done something he shouldn't have and lived to never forget it.

Regret? What was that?

….

_**I dunno. Starting this story, I was thinking: 'A story about some old, dead Black? And only in five chapters? Right.' And now, I'm kind of sad to be packing this story up. But at the same time, is there any more to say? I'm not sure. **_

_**Excuse me. I need to step outside. **_


End file.
